Page 17 of The Nightmare Queen

“WHAT THE FUCK, E?!” Ezra shouts causing my head to spin. I lay back on the bed, my breathing becoming more labored.Shit, why does this hurt so bad? It was a dagger in an area that wouldn’t cause permanent damage, it’s not like my body can’t handle that.

“The yelling Ezra. Please turn it down a notch.” I wave limply in his direction making my best effort to shoo him.

“NO. No I will not ‘turn it down a notch’. What is this insatiable need to harm yourself?!” He’s still yelling, giving me the beginnings of a headache.

“Beauty isn’t without pain, dear.” I jest but he doesn’t take the bait. “Besides I knew what I was doing.”

“HeSTABBEDyou, Eveera! You arequeen, you have to stop being so reckless!”

“Who stabbed you?” Felix asks, both his and Marjorie’s stares drop to the bloody hand pressed to my left side.

“I did.”, “The Vellaran did.” Ezra and I say simultaneously.

Felix’s eyes go wide. “You let himSTABher?!” He shouts.

“The yelling!” I snap cutting Ezra off before he talked himself into having one foot in the grave. “Rorin and I were sparring and Ileanedinto it.” Marjorie’s moved next to me her withered hands already glowing against me. I hate the feeling of her magic, especially the feeling of skin stitching itself back together.

“Youleanedinto a dagger?” Felix looks incredulously at me.

Marjorie makes good time, helping me to stand when she’s all finished. “Yes. I thought it would be fun. I wanted to see his reaction when he drew blood,myblood.”

I turn to Felix. “I amfine.I wouldn’t have let him kill me, and I don’t think he would have done it anyways if he needs me. It was simply a game. Have them meet me in the throne room in an hour. I’ll give him his answer then.”

In truth I could have told them I made my decision, before we even sparred, but I liked making him squirm. And squirm he did.

Rorin

Shefuckingstabbed herself with MY blade - her blade, I guess, considering she sent it for my throat.

“What’s her angle here?” I whisper to no one but myself.

Will’s voice filters into my tangled mess of thoughts. His head is in his hands staring at his feet. “Youstabbedher. You stabbed the queen. What the actual HELL, Ror?!”

“I didn’t stab her. She stabbed herself. She was taunting me, playing games, like she has been since we stepped foot in this damn castle.” I pace across from him, his eyes going straight to my still bloodstained hand. His face lightens about three shades before he gets up, returning with a washcloth.

He extends it out to me and I take it gingerly, grumbling a thanks as he sits back down. “Ror, we need a game plan here. You have to watch your temper with her. They don’t do things normal here.” His expression is earnest.

My fingers pull at my hair in frustration, “nothing about her is normal. She’s feral. Damn woman.” I gripe. Will’s chest is shaking out of the corner of my eye. “WHAT?!” I snap.

“I’ve just never seen you so worked up over a woman. Not one as uncouth as her.” He laughs out.

I roll my eyes. “Oh fuck off, prick.” A knock comes at the door. “You’re getting that.” I point.

He stands shaking his head at me, “Sure thing, boss.”

We’re both surprised to find her guard, Ezra, behind the door. His face revealing he’d sooner rather be anywhere else. “The queen has requested your presence.”

The two of us trail after him to the throne room. It’s noticeably clean of any real blood today, though the room is still bathed in red light from the glass ceiling.

Ezra leaves us in the center of the room to go stand by his queen. He leans into her ear, whispering something that I can tell makes her tense. If for not that nearly imperceptible shift in body language it would almost look like they’re nuzzling.

When she raises her eyes, she locks in on me, moving off the raised platform to stand in front of us. She’s nearly a head shorter than I am; but despite the height differences she still manages to make it feel like she is looking down on me. “You came.”

“Did I have a choice?” I don’t break our stare, instead I take note of her inhuman gold irises and the snake tattoos slithering under her sheer sleeves.

She tilts her head at me. “Mmm. I suppose not.”

“And your thoughts on my proposition would be?” I challenge.

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